Devotion
by icor
Summary: And Aerith, she would always be there in the bed next to his, waking up each morning with a smile and messy hair. [CloudAerith, fluff]


Well, I thought I'd take a break from my usual Cloud/Aerith angsty stuff, and try for something altogether fluffier. _Try_ being the important word here, as I've never really done fluff in length before. I'd really love some feedback.

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There were two knocks at the door, gentle and almost apologetic. The noised started Cloud a little, but he stood up and unbolted the door nonetheless, wondering who was going to interrupt him for the second time that night. Not that he he minded the first intrusion as much as he probably made out, though—no doubt he wouldn't be so lucky this time, though.

Looking out into the hall he laughed under his breath. He'd been wrong before, so there was no need for him to be so surprised.

"Aerith?" he asked, a little confused. Again? He hurried to get her out of the dim hallway.

She had a sort of distant look in her eyes, almost glazed over, and her breathing fell in long, heavy sighs. Cloud looked at her for a while, wondering just what was making the ever-optimistic Aerith like this. Of course, there was the sudden betrayal of Caith Sith they'd experienced earlier, or it could even be something much simpler than the deceit and generally uneasy feeling in the air; Yuffie perhaps, still being a child, might have gone to the Cetra with her problems. Or perhaps it was someone else who needed a dry shoulder—Barret fretting over Marlene, Red pining for his home, or even Vincent, who had been known to open up to Aerith on the odd occasion.

It was just the effect she had on people, Cloud supposed. She was always bright and ever-so happy in the midst of this war, and her words were so simple, yet she could ask the most personal or painful questions in such a way that just made you _trust_ her; made you want to tell her everything, to let her in, even when your own words were horribly awkward and stuck in your throat.

Everyone had their problems, and everyone needed someone to be there for them—and for AVALANCHE Aerith was the person they took their problems to, leaving them to rest on her already worn shoulders.

Reaching over he put a hand on her shoulder and smiled a little, but she didn't seem to register it until he spoke. "Are you okay?"

"I—yes, I'm fine," she began, eyes not meeting his and instead fixing on the storm outside his window. "I'm sorry if I woke you, Cloud."

"I was awake anyway. Couldn't sleep," he explained, letting go and gently closing the door behind her.

Aerith seemed to brighten considerably at the comment, and her eyes flickered to meet Cloud's. Still, he couldn't help but feel concerned as she stood their almost awkwardly, arms crossed against her chest defensively.

"It's strange, isn't it?" she asked vaguely, rubbing the side of her head as she spoke. A headache, perhaps? "Sleeping alone, I mean. I suppose I'm just lonely, after months of being with everyone..."

Cloud smiled as he agreed with her, and it was one thing that had became a big part of his new, eco-terrorist life; he could never have even imagined missing it so much, or comprehend _why_, for that matter. Weeks and weeks of trying to squash everyone into a single hotel/inn/cheap motel room (when they were lucky enough to find a place to stay, that is) either due to a shortage of gil or purely because the village they stumbled upon was too run-down to have more than one room to spare.

It was a routine now, it was familiar, it was... almost like having a real home, no matter how much they moved around the world, never pausing to take in the sights. The evenings were always the same—Cid and Yuffie would argue colourfully over who got to use the cold-shower first, somehow failing to notice that the rest of the party were covered in blood, dirt and Holy-knows-what too. Red XIII would lay down between all the beds, resting on the rug in the middle of the room without a single complaint, kept company by Caith Sith making himself comfortable between his paws, as his toyasaurus was left discarded in the corner of the room.

And as for Barret... well, unfortunately he was always the first to drift into sleep, and his snoring, which he will still deny to this day, would be there to keep the rest of them up. Tifa too had her oddities, mumbling in her sleep about an bizarre mixture of world politics and old martial arts films. At least Vincent was a quiet sleeper, something Cloud was very grateful for.

And Aerith, she would always be there in the bed next to his, waking up each morning with a smile and messy hair, only moments after him.

"I always though I preferred it quiet, but you know, the silence is really getting to me," Cloud added. Well, he wasn't going as far as to say he _missed_ them, or anything.

But, as he soon found out, it was the silence that was bothering Aerith too; the way it was oh-so-quiet, yet _they_ were still there, saying nothing at all while flooding her mind with words and images she shouldn't have. Knowledge she didn't _want_.

"I can hear them all."

The abrupt change of her tone worried Cloud, and he moved across the room, gesturing that she should sit on the bed with him. Her voice, was it almost... _shaking?_

There were somethings he couldn't understand, even when he did strain his mind a little too hard; but he would try to find something appropriate to say.

"You mean... the Planet?" ... it was a start, at least.

"When I was in Midgar, I couldn't hear anything—there were faint whispers in the Church, and even that made me feel... uncomfortable. But now, all I can hear are the voices of our dead mothers and fathers."

As she spoke she stared blankly at the ceiling, and Cloud did not think for an instant that she was talking directly to him. It was more as if she was trying to tell the Planet's ancestors that _it's enough, please stop, just for a moment, _but needing him to break the over flowing silence.

And even as he apologised to her—"I'm sorry, I can't really understand everything you go through Aerith..."—the intruding voice at the back of his head both hissed at Cloud for ignoring him, and told him _you'll have to do better than that._

But before more words fell out of his mouth, Aerith shook her head and snapped back into the conversation. "No, no, it's okay—I should be grateful for them anyway."

There was a certain sadness in the way someone could thank the dead for invading their mind and messing up their thoughts. And Cloud, in all honesty, wasn't sure what to say or do to make her feel better. Somehow he didn't think 'sorry you're the last of your species, deal with it,' would suffice, but anything else he could think of sounded jumbled up, forced and awkward.

She beat him to words again. "My mother always said I'd get out of Midgar and find my Promised Land. But, when I think of all the places we've been to, everything we've done and seen, I still don't feel right. It's almost as if..."

Her words trailed off, but there was no need for her to finish. _Why, _Cloud's mind screamed, _why would the Planet reject it's last Child? _And there she was, Aerith Gainsborough, losing her own voice and _breaking_ down in front of him. Happy, care-free, beautiful Aerith, crying as he looked on.

This time there was no need for him to try and think of what to say; he thought of all the wonderful places they had been to before—the peace and quiet of Kalm, the scorching, beautiful beaches of Costa Del Sol, the dry red-rocks of the Canyon—and in his mind could only remember the smiles on her face as she visited each place, in awe of the beauty of nature. Anything from running her fingers over the tips of wild grass, to the first drops of rain on her face in the morning—how was he supposed to know she felt so sad?

There were still so many places for them to go, and he thought of the cold north, of the endless snowfields and the great cliffs of Gaia. _She_ couldn't give up now—if she lost hope, what was left for the rest of them?

"I meant what I said at Cosmo Canyon," he said firmly. She looked up at him, only to reinforce his confidence. "_I'm_ here for you, whether you're human, Cetra or full of mako, whether I understand it all or not; and if you can't find somewhere on the Planet to rest, we've still go a whole sky to explore."

His heart was beating fast now, and all he could think of were airships and flower fields.

"Cloud?" was all she had to ask, in _that_ tone; the single beat that told him his words meant everything to her, that made him want to fight of all the evils in the world, be they Shinra, the Turks or Sephiroth, just so she'd be safe, so much so that it made him feel foolish.

And quite unexpectedly he lent over, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her _close_; laying his head on her shoulder and breathing her in, needing the the comfort almost as much as she did. Aerith didn't protest, and simply let her arms hang loosely around him as Cloud felt her head rest against his neck, smiling against his skin.

They were quiet for a moment, but not silent. The heavy mood lifted; and Cloud was surprised at his sudden show of affection (and further surprised by how smoothly it went, bodies pressed together without awkwardness or embarrassment) and Aerith was just content to finally be sharing the warmth of another person. Of _Cloud_.

"You know I'll always protect you. I'm your body guard, after all." His voice was barely a whisper now.

Aerith laughed in his ear, that cheerful-tone returning to her voice. "Of course! It is your job."

She felt disappointment as his hands slipped away from her sides, and her smile turned to one of confusion as he ended the embrace, moving back to his original place on the bed. Sitting there he looked worryingly serious, and a few times she saw his mouth open as if he was about to say something.

Silence took over.

Finally he managed to tear his eyes away from the pleasantly stained floor and look back at her. She sat there expectantly, still smiling patiently at him—the kind of look which could only humble him.

"Loving someone means protecting them, no matter what."

Simple, honest words. Cloud nodded, as if agreeing with himself—relieved to finally have gotten rid of what he had never been able to say before, that feeling he could never quite put into place.

But it was all there, and it was all _real_: from the simple flower on the streets, to falling into her life through the fragile rafters of a Church. The softness of the bed in her house, the horrible, burning feeling when _they_ took her away, and the rush of relief flooding over him once she was back with him, safe; traveling over land and sea, through summer and winter. _Her._

And even Aerith Gainsborough was lost for words now as she stared into cloudy mako-eyes. She reached across, letting her fingers trail lightly over his face as he moved to kiss her, lips pushed together lightly as their arms found their way around each other once more. For once, Cloud felt as if he'd done something right in his life.

Aerith smiled as Cloud's lips brushed against her cheek, and she realised that perhaps her Promised Land wasn't so far out of reach after all.


End file.
